


Hearts of Aces

by Rambert



Series: It's the Tops, baby [1]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Ableist Language, Accidental Voyeurism, Age Difference, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Almost Kiss, Anger, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Attempted Sex, Awkward Tension, Banter, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Bitterness, Body Image, Boss/Employee Relationship, Clothing, Conflict, Confrontations, Cooking, Crushes, Crying, Cussing, Dancing and Singing, Depression, Developing Relationship, Dialogue Heavy, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Constipation, Explicit Language, First Kiss, Grumpy Old Men, Heavy Drinking, Hotels, International Fanworks Day 2021, Jealousy, Las Vegas Aces, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Naked Cuddling, New Vegas, New Year's Eve, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Old Souls, One Shot, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Performing Arts, Pet Names, Racism, Rarepair, Relationship Advice, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rivalry, Self-Esteem Issues, Sex Work, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Sobriety, Threats of Violence, Truth or Dare, Vomiting, War, no beta we die like Freesiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:42:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28800780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rambert/pseuds/Rambert
Summary: [TW: theoretical self-harm and death referenced]Bruce Isaac begins working for Tommy Torini at the Aces in the Tops casino, and everything is fine. Except when it isn't.
Relationships: Bruce Isaac/Tommy Torini, Swank/Tommy Torini, Tommy Torini/Bruce Isaac
Series: It's the Tops, baby [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165283
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Still on my Fallout shit, sorry to my TDP and original works that need attention lmao but this game has taken over my brain
> 
> Bruce Isaac seems like such a sad character and I wanted to make him happy bc he deserves it (but it'll take a while and get worse before it gets better cuz he is Very Sad), and also I have a gigantic crush on Tommy Torini bc that voice is smooooooth. 
> 
> https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/Bruce_Isaac  
> https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/Tommy_Torini
> 
> mind the tags!  
> racism tag explained in chapter 2 beginning notes. and regarding the age difference tag, Bruce Isaac is 48 and Tommy Torini is 40 in my headcanon-- no ages are specified anywhere on the wiki or that I could find. and later in the series Bruce pays for an escort who is in their 30s and it's implied this isn't the first time he's done this.
> 
> there's also a brief bit of sex in a couple parts but it's short so I decided against switching to an Explicit rating, since the majority of the work isn't porn-focused. If you disagree with this and think it should be Explicit please let me know in a comment.

Bruce Isaac unconsicously smoothed out his jacket as he entered the Tops casino, a little anxious but mostly relieved as he was guided upstairs to the Aces entertainment venue.

That courier recruiter who had given him this faded business card had mentioned the Tops was hiring, but it had been years since Bruce had been to the Strip. A lot had changed since then, and this was far different a place than New Reno.

Still, the place was cleaner than he'd expected given the circumstances-- a damn sight better than that crappy hotel in Novac where mold and radiated water barely made the place worth staying. He'd needed the obscurity for his own peace of mind, but now he had a much safer place to stay-- assuming this offer was real.

Hence the anxiety, as he'd already spent his last caps on getting to the Strip in the first place.

He'd heard the name Tommy Torini before, as some of the people who'd performed at the Shark Club were from New Vegas themselves and spoke of him highly. But this was the first time he was looking for him-- "you can't miss him baby, he's got an eyepatch on", Swank had said at the front desk.

Bruce wasn't sure what he'd been expecting from a man named Tommy Torini looks-wise, but it certainly was a pleasant surprise to see a fellow Black man looking _crisp_ in a three-piece suit, hair carefully styled around his eyepatch strap.

Approaching the Aces manager, Bruce smiled and held out the business card the courier had given him.

"Mr. Torini, I presume? I was given your business card and told you're recruiting acts... I just so happen to be available."

"And what's your name, Mr. 'Available'?" Tommy Torini teased, arching an eyebrow as he took the business card back with a smirk.

"Bruce Isaac, formerly of the Shark Club," said the singer, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.

Then Bruce was bewildered as Tommy Torini laughed, long and hearty. A few of his Rat Pack boys glanced over so he shook his head at them: they returned immediately to minding their business.

His voice was lower as he continued, "So _you're_ the one Bishop's been scouring the Mojave for-- we meet at last, Isaac."

At the mention of Bishop, Bruce's blood ran cold. He felt faint, and he gripped the bartop for support.

"Are you gonna turn me in?" he asked in a hoarse voice, scarcely believing his terrible luck.

"What? Man, no! What the fuck," Torini said, laughing again-- though this time it was more incredulous.

"I'm no snitch baby. Relax," he said, shaking his head while still chuckling.

"Just funny is all. Bishop came through here a few months ago looking for you, and got real mad at me saying he probably deserved it for running with those crooked mob bosses back in New Reno."

"You didn't," Bruce blurted out, astonished despite himself.

"I did," Tommy said, grinning widely. "I don't cater to his kind here, Mr. Isaac, so you've got nothing to worry about. Now, what kind of acts you got? We don't let just anyone perform here at the Tops."

"Well, I'm just a singer I guess," Bruce said, now feeling nervous that he hadn't expected to be asked for a resume.

What was the competition in the post-apocalypse really like, anyway?

"Ah, excellent. We need a singer in here," Torini said, sounding relieved.

"If you were gonna be another dancer or comedian we might've had a problem, too many of those already-- but don't tell Hadrian or the boys I said that," he muttered under his breath.

Despite the good news, it still stung to be so... unknown now, and Bruce couldn't help saying: "So you know Mr. Bishop but you've never been to the Shark Club? I used to sing there every Friday night for years."

"I got a business to run here sweetheart, it's nothing personal," Tommy said, and Bruce felt something inside him twist at being called _sweetheart_ , even so flippantly.

He knew these New Vegas types were all faux-affectionate, but after the stone-faced zombies in Novac it sure was a lot to be around someone this charming again. Especially someone this attractive.

_No, stop thinking that, he's your boss-- and younger than you!_

"Speaking of which, go on and get yourself a room-- tell em you're with the Rat Pack now and they'll comp it," Tommy said as he patted Bruce on the arm, then held out his hand to shake.

"Pleasure to have you aboard, baby."

"Thank you sir," Bruce said as he took it, and Torini's nose crinkled as they shook hands.

"Please, call me Tommy. I may be your boss but that doesn't make me a _sir_ ," he added with a chortle.

"Sure. Thanks, Tommy," Bruce said wonderingly.

He got checked into a room in a daze, flopping back on the bed after a long shower and marveling at his good fortune.

This had gone... _far_ better than expected.

\--

_The very thought of you and I forget to do_

_the little ordinary things that everyone ought to do_

_I'm living in a kind of daydream, I'm happy as a king..._

Tommy looked up from the expense report he'd been working on, watching the stage.

Everyone knew Nat King Cole's "The Very Thought of You"; it played on the radio every single day along with all the rest of the oldies.

But _damn_. Bruce had a _voice,_ one that could rival Cole himself. The kind of resonant voice that made you feel things deep in your chest... Tommy caught himself watching raptly from where he stood behind the bar, chills running down his spine.

Bruce's eyes were closed as he sang, cradling the microphone to his lips so that he could croon into it just like in the pre-war videos. He was swaying ever so gently along with the lilting beat, carried along by the music.

Tommy suddenly found himself with a lump in his throat and he swallowed with difficulty. He was getting soft in his old age, letting this sappy shit get to him...

However, he wasn't the only one getting emotional. Almost everyone in the room was watching Bruce by the end of the song, and when the orchestra on the holotape backing track swelled in the final chords people began to cheer and applaud wildly, more than they _ever_ did for the Rat Pack Revue or Hadrian's comedy.

Tommy joined in, clapping and smiling as Bruce took two bows before walking off for a break while the radio was put on again. People milled about and chatted while waiting for the next act to start-- Bruce would sing again later.

When he came up to the bar, Tommy already had a vodka soda with lime nearly ready; the Aces manager always asked his performers' favorite drink prior to the first show so he could keep them supplied all night.

And though he had bartenders on his payroll, he'd always liked making drinks to pass the time and be creative-- it was the closest to fancy food service one could get in the Mojave, with the cooking options being so abysmal. Easier to make a nice drink and feel like you were in those old film reels.

"Thanks kid," Bruce said as he slumped down on a bar stool, looking almost worn-out and staring longingly at the drink being made.

"Kid!? Come on now. You can't be that much older than me Bruce," Tommy said with a smirk, pushing the drink across the bar after finishing off the garnish.

"I'm almost fifty," Bruce groaned, taking a healthy swig of the drink.

"So? I'm forty," Tommy said with a shrug. "You're not old, baby, and you've got a hell of a set of pipes. Not a dry eye in the house out there."

"What a forgiving crowd," Bruce said in self-deprecation, but at least he smiled as he raised his glass towards Tommy's-- the manager was drinking a whiskey double.

"To a first night going smoothly," the singer added, and Tommy smiled back.

"To the beginning of a long and beautiful friendship, baby," he said easily, always good at this sort of effusive praise-- it had gotten him most of the things he'd wanted in life, after all.

It was certainly easier to do around people he genuinely liked though, and so far Tommy liked Bruce.

Isaac looked almost uncomfortable with the compliment, but he gave a thin-lipped smile and ducked his head.

"I certainly hope so," he said as they clinked their glasses.

When it was time for the Rat Pack Revue Tommy got up on stage to dance with the boys. It was the same number as always, but he found himself getting extra into it and putting in little flourishes that he didn't usually do.

And if he smiled a little wider seeing Bruce sitting in the first row tapping one foot to the beat, well, that was his business.

\--

The days began to pass in a blur, to Bruce. At first he'd been afraid to spend his caps, certain that he'd be kicked out after a week when it became clear he was _only_ a singer and couldn't also play an instrument, but... everyone loved him, just like they had at the Shark Club.

In the quiet moments of his more poignant performances, sometimes he heard sniffling from the audience. People of all kinds would come up to him afterwards teary-eyed to shake his hand and tell him he had "the voice of an angel", from the sweetest old ladies to the toughest gangsters.

And after he'd caught Tommy Torini himself wiping at his eye and ducking behind the bar so nobody else would notice, Bruce stopped being worried about keeping his job and finally began to enjoy New Vegas a little.

His ego was starting to slowly recover from the hit it had suffered having to effectively terminate his entire career over a one-night-stand that was so _not_ worth it... he could finally move on from New Reno.

He'd even gone to that bizarre vault hotel's gift shop and bought some more holotapes-- it was still all the same shit the radio played, but now he had a couple more songs to add into his rotation for the staff's sake more than the customers. Besides, he knew them all by heart anyway.

And he was drinking quite a bit more now... it couldn't really be helped, Bruce told himself, it was just-- _there_. He got to drink at the Tops for free now, and had a discount at the rest of the Strip for being an employee here. Almost like they knew what they were doing or something.

It had been easy to give alcohol up in Novac except for rarities because of how scarce and expensive it was there, but even a year of sobriety couldn't kick his filthy habit for good it seemed. He was back on the sauce harder than ever, but what else was there to do when he wasn't working? Shit, even when he was.

Besides, drinking made things seem more fun. It made Bruce almost forget there was a war going on-- a war that he'd refused to take a side in.

He'd believed in the NCR as a kid growing up in California, back when his dad was still alive... but when that damn bear flag was folded over Colonel Isaac's casket, Bruce had felt nothing towards it but bitterness and resentment.

Then he'd tried to run away to New Reno, and it had worked for a while until he got too cocky. Now, finally, it seemed he'd been able to carve out a little life for himself that wasn't in the NCR's or Legion's clutches... and not a moment too soon. Bruce was getting too old for this faction rivalry shit.

Feeling bold one day, he'd bought himself a new suit on a whim, though when he put it on he scowled at what he saw in the mirror in his room. He'd been hoping to look sharp, like Tommy Torini did in his, but Bruce's beer gut and square jaw just made the already ill-fitted suit look frumpy. He kept wearing his old one, too embarrassed even to return the new suit.

It _hurt_ to be reminded that though his voice was beautiful to people, his body never would be. Despite getting rave compliments, free drinks, and hugs... no one had ever come on to him after a show. The only sex he'd had here he'd paid quite a bit for.

But it's not like it had been any better in Novac. Loneliness was just a part of getting older, Bruce supposed, and he kept singing love songs that he desperately wished to relate to.

\--

"Oh _bother_ , it looks like there's a new act before the ghoul tonight," came a smarmy and sycophantic voice followed by tittering laughter, and Tommy's lip curled in disgust as he looked over towards the noise.

Those weirdly-dressed Ultra Luxe cashiers were here with that wretched greeter again, as they were about once a month. They came here to laugh, and scorn, and Tommy did not like them. But they tipped with an almost obscene generosity, often a thousand caps at least, so his staff had begged him not to kick them out unless they did something truly foul. Tommy clenched a fist under the bar, hoping tonight would be that night.

The stories he'd heard about that White Glove Society made his stomach wrench just _looking_ at them. But of course, how could he know for sure? No one around here really did, or if they did they kept it to themselves. And Tommy Torini would not be caught _dead_ at the Ultra Luxe to see for himself.

Thankfully Bruce was still behind the curtain and probably hadn't heard the greeter's disdain, but Tommy was already running hot with anger.

"Yeah, we got a new act, now sit down-- show's about to start," he said crisply, and the Ultra Luxe greeter flashed him a luridly fake smile.

"Of course. _Thank_ you for your trademark _hospitality_ , Mr. Torini." Sarcasm so acidic it nearly burned.

"Hn." Tommy's response was a dismissive noise in his throat as the group seated themselves close to the stage and ordered drinks from one of his waiters.

"Do _not_ use the top shelf stuff for them no matter what they order," he hissed to his bartenders before leaving the bar area with a cleaning rag.

He bent low over a nearby table to wipe it although it was already clean, just to be close enough to hear the conversation. But as if they noticed his attempts, the Ultra Luxe table began to speak in excited whispers that he couldn't make out, and he sighed and went to toss his rag in the laundry bag at the back.

Then the track for Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable" came on, Bruce's number for tonight; the singer came out through the folds in the stage curtain and sat down on his stool, leaning the mic stand towards himself and taking a deep breath before launching into the ballad.

" _Booooo_ ," the greeter called out almost immediately, giving an exaggerated "thumbs down" gesture.

"We came here to laugh at the silly ghoul! If we'd wanted to listen to Nat King Cole, we could have turned on the radio back at home."

More tittering, and by now Bruce had stopped singing and was staring at the group, blinking in confusion and shock at being so brazenly and rudely interrupted.

"Y'all think you're so _classy,_ but you're too good to sit still for some classic jazz?" Tommy's voice was low and scathing as he strode up to the table, leaning over it and addressing the greeter.

"I won't abide by such childish behavior. If you don't apologize to my talent right now then you can walk your masked asses _out_."

"Oh, we're leaving, aren't we darlings," the greeter said in a simpering tone, standing up and giggling as the cashiers immediately followed suit.

"Too bad, I hope your Rat Pack stays employed without the monthly grand," he added over his shoulder on the way out, his voice going low and sinister before he let out a truly grating bark of a laugh.

"I don't need your money! Get out, you creepy bastards, and _don't_ come back," Tommy growled, but when they were gone his boys were sighing.

"Aw, boss, didja really have to do that? Why not just put Hadrian on first?" Ricky complained, and Tommy had to fight down the urge to backhand him-- where had _that_ come from?

He needed to cool off.

"I'll compensate you all for tonight but y'all knew this was going to end badly with them at some point," he huffed, still irritated, but half his staff shrugged affably and the rest rolled their eyes but said nothing-- Tommy was right after all.

"All right boss, we're still gonna work, chill out. Go take a walk," Ricky said, and Tommy nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I'm gonna take the rest of the night off since I'm paying you boys extra."

It wasn't until he was on the stairs down to the casino floor that he realized someone was in step with him and trying to hurry past.

"Bruce," Tommy started, "I'm so sorry about that--"

"Not your fault," Bruce said quickly, cutting him off. "But if it's all the same to you Tommy, I didn't want to be there any more right now. Told Hadrian he could go on early."

"Yeah, sure, of course. Are-- you okay?" Tommy couldn't help asking, seeing the hard hunch in Bruce's shoulders.

"No man, but what can you do? Comes with the territory," Bruce sighed, and by now they'd reached the bottom of the staircase.

"Just gonna-- go drink it off in my room," he said, jerking his thumb towards the elevators and then giving a little wave. "Goodnight."

"Wait, wait. You're seriously just gonna hole yourself up and drink _alone_ after that? That sounds like a recipe for suicide," Tommy said, a bit more earnestly than he'd intended.

Bruce's eyes widened a bit and Tommy knew he'd gone too far, cursing the three whiskey doubles he'd already had tonight for enabling him to cross a line.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I just meant like-- won't you let me cheer you up instead, take you over to Gomorrah for a show or something?" Fuck, why hadn't he led with that, why did he have to be so awkward?!

"You're a sweet guy Tommy," Bruce began, making the Aces manager smile despite the situation-- at first Isaac had seemed so uncomfortable with the affectionate way of talking here in New Vegas, but now it seemed it was rubbing off on him at last.

"So that's a yes?" Tommy insisted before Bruce could finish his musings by adding a "but" to that sentence.

Bruce sighed in exasperation. "Do I have a choice at this point?" he asked, but something in his body posture seemed just a little... relieved.

Tommy decided to take a chance. "I ain't forcing ya, man. But if you'd _like_ to go for a drink and a few rounds of blackjack over at Gomorrah well, it'd sure be more fun for me than going alone," he admitted honestly, making eye contact with Bruce at last.

The man still looked so _guarded_ , but eventually to Tommy's relief, he nodded.

"Yeah, okay, let's go."

"Groovy, baby."

\--

Bruce was _very_ drunk, watching Tommy talk without really hearing the words he was saying.

If only Torini knew just how close to home he'd hit with his assessment that Bruce wanted to die tonight, perhaps he wouldn't be so carefree at the moment...

After that hellish experience with the Ultra Luxe staff, Bruce's stomach had clenched at the thought of performing any more tonight-- and Hadrian had been happy to take his slot back for himself.

It was only a matter of time now before his performance anxiety would get him fired, Bruce thought morosely as he sipped at his sixth drink of the evening. But Tommy was just being so _nice_ to him that it was difficult not to want to humor the man. Besides... he was probably right that it was a bad idea for Bruce to be alone tonight.

They'd gone to Gomorrah and seen a show, but Bruce could barely focus on anything.

Now they were on the casino floor at the bar, and Tommy had been telling some story about... something. Bruce wasn't really able to hear him over the dull roar of his own blood rushing in his ears.

"Bruce?"

"Hmm."

"You with me man? You look pretty sauced."

"And what of it," Bruce said in a surly voice that he rarely used nowadays.

"Shit, I know you've got reason to be upset baby. I'm not here to tell you what to do, just make sure you're still all right. Y'know?"

"Yeah. Bad f'r business if I die at the hotel," Bruce said grimly, and Tommy blanched.

"Damn dude, now we're even for what I said earlier. That was _cold_."

Bruce couldn't help chuckling at that, and Tommy quirked the brow over his sighted eye.

"Really? _That's_ what cheers you up?"

Bruce nodded but quickly regretted it, clutching at his head as the room spun violently. "Ugh. Fuck."

"Hey. Time to go back to the Tops, maybe?" Tommy asked, pulling out some bills to cash out with for their drinks.

Bruce groaned, and when he stood up he swayed unsteadily, nearly falling until Tommy caught him by the elbow.

"Whoa now baby, let's try to stay vertical til you get to a bed, all right? I've got you."

Bruce should have been embarrassed as they went back to the Tops like that, acting so sloppy in front of his boss, but he wasn't. It had been so long since _anyone_ had walked down the street with him on their arm that it felt like a dream.

Luckily it was late enough at night that there weren't too many locals around to see Bruce's walk of shame, as most people passing them were tourists almost as drunk as he was. The elevator ride up to his room made him ill, and he stumbled down the hall, leaving the room door open as he barreled towards the bathroom and only barely made it to the toilet in time to puke.

Then he heard the faucet going behind him, and a glass of water was set on the floor near his hand.

"I'm-- gonna stick around for a while, okay? Let me know if you need anything," Tommy said quietly before retreating to give Bruce some space.

If Bruce hadn't felt so terrible, he might have been ashamed at his boss seeing this side of him. As it was, he really did not care because he was convinced he was going to die at last.

But he didn't, eventually coming back to himself with a start and realizing that a cold line of spittle was nearly fusing his lips to the toilet bowl. Shaking his head a little, he realized his mouth felt _gross_ and when he went to lift his hand to wipe it, it knocked over something that spiraled across the tile with a tinkling sound.

A glass of water... who put that there?

Oh right, Tommy had. And now he'd just knocked it over, the liquid getting his pants wet where he was kneeling. Fuck.

"You okay in there?" came Tommy's voice from the room.

"No," Bruce groaned. "Spilled... the water."

"Just a sec," Tommy called out, probably not having heard him.

Then Bruce heard a chuckle from the bathroom doorway. "Sheesh baby, maybe I should have waited to give you water ah? Here," he said, getting a new glass and filling it.

This time the glass was gently pressed directly into Bruce's palm, and Tommy waited until he'd actually grasped it to let go.

"There you go baby," he said softly.

Bruce rinsed his mouth out, spat into the toilet and flushed it, feeling filthy.

"I'm gonna go back to the room," Tommy said after washing his hands. "Just holler if you need anything, okay?"

Bruce wanted to nod, but he knew that was a bad idea for his head so he grunted out "Yeah".

"All right baby, you take it easy." Then Bruce heard the radio turn on as Tommy returned to the main part of the hotel room.

It took him quite a while to drag himself off the floor, but after washing his hands and brushing his teeth and wiping off his face with the damp towel Bruce felt worlds better.

He was still drunk though, and now was wondering why the hell Tommy was sticking around. Did he really find Bruce so old and feeble that he needed watching over when sick? Or worse, did he assume Bruce was lonely and pitied him? That assumption wouldn't even be incorrect.

Coming out of the bathroom, Bruce grabbed up a bottle of water to drink.

"How are you feeling?" Tommy asked from where he was sitting on the room's small couch.

Bruce sat next to him heavily, sighing. "Like I just puked my guts out for the first time in years."

"Fair enough man, but like-- are you okay? Do you need medicine or food or anything?" Tommy asked, and Bruce was beginning to feel belligerent.

"Look boss, I appreciate you being so-- kind. But you don't have to take care of me," he said, probably in a ruder tone than he should have, and he stared ahead at the wall instead of looking at Tommy.

"...Wow, you sure know how to make a guy feel small," Tommy muttered, sounding almost upset.

"I was joking when I said we were even earlier, man. You really think I only care about you as a boss and not also as a person by this point?"

When Bruce didn't answer Tommy abruptly stood up, brushing off his knees and looking around.

"Fine then. Maybe I should just--" Tommy had sounded irritated but then the words died in his throat as he walked towards Bruce's doorway.

"...Just what?" Bruce asked, dreading the answer but unable to keep quiet.

"...Bruce. Why on _Earth_ do you have a brand-new-lookin' suit hanging in the front of your closet that you're not even wearing for shows?"

Tommy hadn't been going to the door, Bruce realized; he'd gone to the open closet.

"Oh, that," he said sheepishly. "It doesn't-- fit right, and I just... didn't feel like returning it yet."

"This is a nice suit though," Tommy commented, pulling it out a bit from the hanger to inspect it.

"You know, I've got an alterations guy I could send this to. He's not cheap or fast, but he'll get the job done and do it well. What do you say?"

Bruce just shrugged. "It's just a suit. Doesn't matter what I wear anyway, no one cares."

"I'm gonna pretend that was a 'Yes Tommy, what a good idea Tommy'."

"Sure," Bruce agreed, chuckling despite himself. "How much is it gonna be then?"

"Nothing for you. I'm already comping the boys for the Ultra Luxe tip tonight so you get a cut as well," Tommy insisted. "And go ahead and take tomorrow off as a sick day. Just take it easy baby."

"...Thanks," Bruce said, not really sure how to react to someone caring about him this much.

"Don't thank me til you love the suit, baby," Tommy said with a smirk. "Then you'll _really_ be grateful I stopped in here."

\--

As it turned out, Bruce _did_ love the suit-- Tommy could tell because the same day that he'd returned the suit to Mr. Isaac, Bruce had worn it to the show that very night.

It was worth every cap that Tommy had paid, for he hadn't lied when he said it wasn't cheap: the job had cost far more than Bruce's cut of the Ultra Luxe tip. But Bruce didn't need to know that.

And if Tommy Torini thought that Bruce Isaac looked exceedingly handsome in that new suit that actually fit the man's proportions to the letter now, well... that was his business.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a note on the "racism" tag: there is a racial call to violence that I write Mr. Bishop saying in this chapter, and Mr. Torini says what he's calling for is a hate crime. there are no slurs in this but I believe it still merits a warning.
> 
> though this is not overtly stated in the chapter, the reason Mr. Bishop wants Bruce Isaac dead is because Isaac slept with his daughter-- this is canon. Which means Mr. Bishop is definitely a white supremacist, because why else would someone do that shit lol

Bruce's life had been, all things considered, pretty good lately.

Even though no one treated him any different for it other than the occasional compliment, Bruce _felt_ so much more confident in that new suit now that it actually fit him well. What a difference a few seam changes could make!

He took extra good care of the suit and carried himself differently, eating and drinking more carefully to avoid staining it and making sure to hang it up at night even when it was dirty so it wouldn't wrinkle.

And he'd expanded out his holotape library again, which meant that now he could actually _choose_ what songs he wanted to sing in a playlist rather than only having a limited rotation that he did every single performance.

He'd even bought some of his old cologne, the kind he'd given up living in Novac but had been reintroduced to here. If he closed his eyes up on that Aces stage, it was _almost_ like being back in the Shark Club. Almost.

If he was honest though... he actually liked this place better. He'd never seen eye-to-eye with Mr. Bishop even in the best of times, hence the pay disputes. Tommy paid him in full on time just the same as all his other employees, and now Bruce could see why their loyalty never wavered.

Even if it meant he had to pull extra hours himself, the Aces manager would allow his employees to leave if they really had to or call out sick. Of course that meant they wouldn't get paid for the time missing, but that was punishment enough in Tommy's book and Bruce agreed. That was more than fair for not coming in to work, he thought.

And besides, Mr. Bishop was a scrawny white man with a mean personality. Tommy Torini couldn't be a further opposite-- and that was certainly a good thing. The Aces manager was warm and inviting, always making everyone feel welcome at the Tops. He'd certainly made Bruce feel like he had a home here. 

Bruce was watching the Rat Pack Revue tonight, sitting close to the stage as he always did. And while the routine and song was always the same, right when he looked over Bruce swore Tommy blew a kiss in his direction mid-spin. Or was he imagining things?

Had he just been wishing that perhaps Tommy would do something like that? The number was over and Bruce clapped distractedly.

Fuck, he should probably just spend the caps to get laid again because a crush on his boss was _not_ the way to go around here. Tommy didn't treat him any different than the Rat Pack boys-- he was an actual nice guy, a rarity in the Mojave, and Bruce refused to read into that New Vegas slang charm. Even if he did perk up a little every time Tommy called him "baby".

Bruce was interrupted in his musings by a cold, nasally voice.

"Well I'll be _damned._ Isaac, you son-of-a-bitch, I _knew_ you were hiding out here somewhere!"

Bruce stood up and whirled around, seeing none other than Mr. Bishop himself standing there looking leaner and meaner than ever.

"Mr. Bishop," he exhaled in surprise, and the man scowled menacingly.

"Yeah, thought you were doing a good job hiding here huh? Well I've found you!"

Bruce's first instinct was to panic, but then he remembered that weapons were always taken from people upon entering the casino. Bishop wasn't clever enough to sneak anything in that could pass the body frisk search.

And a quick scan of the room revealed the man's burly bodyguards were nowhere to be found, meaning he hadn't actually come prepared to hunt Bruce down but rather was here coincidentally.

This was a safe place, and Tommy said he didn't "cater to" Bishop's kind here... well, his word was about to be put to the test.

"Yes, you've found me. I work here now," Bruce said with a slow smile.

"So the place is going downhill," was Mr. Bishop's acerbic reply. "You and I have _business_ to attend to outside... won't you join me?"

Bruce laughed at the level of entitlement and sheer _gall_ the man possessed.

"You think I'm going to leave a secure casino? No chance, Mr. Bishop. Sorry to disappoint you again."

Some of the Rat Pack had been listening in by now and they crowed with laughter at that last bit.

Mr. Bishop's hands clenched into fists. "I've got people ready to end you with just a single word."

"Ah, speaking of which... where are your bodyguards? I don't see them," Bruce said mildly.

Mr. Bishop's jaw clenched in rage. "They're-- around," he ground out.

"Oh _really_ ," Bruce said, two drinks in tonight and feeling bolder by the second watching a vein pop out in Mr. Bishop's forehead. "Well tell 'em hello for me, whenever you see them next. My heart goes out to Nicky, sure is a shame that a prison record like his gets you barred permanently from the Strip now isn't it."

"You--" Mr. Bishop's fists were trembling at his sides; if the Rat Pack boys hadn't all been looking at him he may have thrown a punch-- and Bruce was ready to fight back.

"You can't hide from me forever Isaac! You think you can just _defile_ my daughter and get away with it?" Bishop yelled, spittle flying from his mouth that Bruce had to step aside to avoid.

"Defile is such a strong word for something that was all her idea," Bruce shot back with a smirk, unable to help himself-- it _was_ the truth.

"You dare suggest my daughter would ever want someone like _you_ without being drugged? I'll have you hanged for this!" Bishop screeched over the raucous laughter of the Rat Pack.

"Okay, time out." That was Tommy striding over, sounding like he'd had enough; the laughter ceased.

" _Mister_ Bishop. If you don't want to immediately apologize for essentially calling for a _hate crime_ just now, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave my establishment and never return."

"You can't do this to me, do you know who I am?" Mr. Bishop snarled in anger.

"Oh believe me, I know more about you than I _ever_ wanted to," Tommy said in disgust, folding his arms. "Now get out before I call the Securitrons and tell them you're a _threat_ to this establishment."

That got Mr. Bishop to shut up, and he raised his hands in a feeble attempt at a surrender gesture.

"N-no need for that sir, I'll be going," he said, clearly just as big a coward now as he'd always been.

When he left, the staff whistled and clapped and Bruce felt a giddy grin spreading across his face.

"Joke's on him because I'm going to tell the Securitrons he's a security threat to the Tops anyway-- he'll never be allowed in here again," Tommy said, prompting more applause.

"Fuck that guy, he never tipped anyway," Ricky said, and Bruce laughed.

"Thank you all, truly." It felt like these men were his family now.

"What are you thanking us for? You were running the show telling him off like that, all I did was take out the trash," Tommy said, smirking as he clapped Bruce on the shoulder before heading over to the bar.

"Let's do a round of shots boys, on me!"

The Rat Pack cheered.

\--

Tommy was getting absolutely plastered tonight and feeling reckless in a way he hadn't since... shit, he didn't even _know_ since when.

Watching Bruce stand up to Mr. Bishop like that, cool as you please... setting up for Tommy to kick him out in a process that went smooth as top shelf liquor down the throat. It was like something out of a movie.

And maybe that was the reason, that tonight felt like something from a pre-war film reel, but somehow Tommy wanted to plant a real sloppy one on Bruce big time now. Like suck his cock and _everything_. He already liked Bruce quite a bit, captivated by his amazing singing voice, but... now he was irresistible.

But the man seemed distinctly uncomfortable whenever the Rat Pack or Hadrian even so much as joked about sex, and Tommy wondered if he was actually straight or closeted or something. In New Vegas pretty much everyone was gay, bi or at least a swinger for the right amount of caps, but he wasn't familiar with the 'climate' of New Reno-- maybe it was different up there.

Hadrian was on now, and Tommy was starting to clean up the bar since it was a slower night tonight. At one point he turned around and realized Bruce was sitting at the bar just... watching him.

"Can I make you a drink?" Tommy asked, swaying a little where he stood despite his best effort not to.

"Sure, thanks," Bruce sighed, rolling his head around to crack his neck a few times in a way that made Tommy wonder how _flexible_ he'd be in other ways... fuck, he really needed to stop being so lewd.

"--And that's when I said, that's not a Securitron, that's _my wife_!" Hadrian said in a hammed-up tone, getting a brief but genuine smattering of laughter from the audience.

Even though the ghoul reused his jokes a lot, most of his fans didn't seem to care-- they just liked the way Hadrian said them. Tommy hadn't really known what they meant; then he caught himself humming along to Bruce's singing one night like it was the radio. Now he understood... he liked the way Bruce sang anything and everything.

The garnish on this vodka lime was barely presentable but Bruce didn't seem to notice, and their fingers brushed when Tommy handed the drink off.

"You make it perfect every time," Bruce commented with a smile. "You got a real knack for this gig, boss."

Bruce calling him _boss_ shook Tommy out of the raunchy daydream that had started when he'd felt Bruce's fingers touch his own, and he smiled faintly back.

"Thanks man. I do what I'm good at and the Mojave provides."

Later, when Bruce was on stage for his last number, Tommy went and sat in the audience instead of staying behind the bar.

Bruce was doing "Unforgettable" again, and at one point he seemed to make eye contact with Tommy just as he was singing the lines _That's why, darling, it's incredible that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am unforgettable, too._

Tommy swallowed hard, fighting the urge to shift in his seat and give himself away. Had Bruce done that on purpose, or was Tommy just reading too much into him gazing out at the room? Now that he wasn't at the bar he couldn't be sure if Bruce was really looking at _him_ or not.

When the song ended Tommy clapped and whistled loudly along with everyone else, and then felt his stomach flip in excitement when Bruce came over to his table and sat down.

"Just another night at Aces ah? Shit, you sure told that Bishop guy what's what," Tommy said.

"And you helped-- thank you." Bruce chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "God _damn_ but I forgot how annoying that guy was to work for. The Shark Club wasn't worth that bad attitude."

"So you're saying I'm a better boss," Tommy preened, and Bruce just laughed.

"You're a peach, Tommy, an absolute peach," he said in a perfect pre-war imitation that made Tommy grin wide.

"Now see here, you start talkin' to a gal a certain way and she's gonna think you wanna buy her dinner," the Aces manager teased back in a similar accent.

"I could go for dinner," Bruce said amiably, so suddenly switching back to a normal voice that Tommy had to blink for a moment to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"You-- want to? Sure," he said, trying to sound less bewildered than he was so that Bruce wouldn't change his mind.

"Yeah why not? Let's celebrate," said Bruce.

"Celebrating" under the circumstances still did not allow for leaving the Tops-- that wouldn't be safe until tomorrow, when Tommy could submit a ticket to Mr. House with the name to program into the "threat" list the Securitrons were ordered to ban from the Strip.

But the Tops still had a kitchen. And after turning the Aces over to the graveyard shift manager Tommy was cooking in it, with Bruce looking on in amusement.

"You sure you don't need any help?"

"Nah baby, just your company," Tommy insisted, getting the oven on and putting two washed potatoes in.

He didn't mention that he rarely cooked for anyone these days, even himself, and was just happy he remembered how to work the ancient appliances in here.

"...Thanks for giving me this job, man," Bruce said, suddenly serious. "I really can't thank you enough. I don't... even know where I'd be otherwise."

"Back in... Nozac? Was that the town name?"

"Novac," Bruce corrected with a snort of laughter.

"Whatever," Tommy said, grinning as he got a pot of water on the stove for boiling the maize.

"The point is you're here now, baby, and we're happy to have you."

"...Yeah, likewise. You're a real desert rose, Tommy."

"Aw shucks Brucie, you're chokin' me up."

Tommy made a simple meal for them of baked potatoes, corn on the cob and some canned beans. Boring stuff, but at least they had plenty of seasoning for it here. You wouldn't catch Tommy Torini roughing it out in that damn wasteland eating unseasoned unwashed potatoes, no _sir_.

They chatted until the food was ready but ate in relative silence-- turns out they'd been hungrier than they thought-- and afterwards Bruce sighed in such satisfaction that Tommy felt a twist of lurid desire through his guts. 

"That was _so_ satisfying," Bruce said as he leaned back in his chair again.

"Mmmhm," Tommy agreed, still working on his last bites of food.

A comfortable silence descended upon them again, but as Tommy swallowed he couldn't help wondering how he could get Bruce to make more sounds like that. Fuck, he was sauced.

"I'd propose a toast to defeating Mr. Bishop, but if I drink any more I _will_ regret it," Bruce sighed sadly. "Getting old is hell, Tommy."

"You are not _old_ , you weirdo," Tommy scoffed, gathering up the dishes.

"Tell that to my liver," Bruce groaned, but he laughed and so did Tommy.

"Just cuz you get messy on the sauce, doesn't make you old. Makes you human," Tommy said with his back to Bruce while he loaded the plates into the dishwasher.

"Psh. Then what about you, Tommy? You're never 'messy on the sauce'," Bruce said in a way that Tommy wasn't quite sure was a compliment or not.

"What does that mean?" he asked, turning around and washing his hands in the sink.

Hadn't he had just as many drinks as Bruce tonight? He'd thought they were on the same level here.

"I didn't mean anything bad by it, I-- ugh, see, my old brain messed up what was supposed to be a compliment," Bruce said, shaking his head.

"You're just... always so put-together, Tommy. The only reason I bought this new suit was to try and look stylish like you," the singer admitted as he stood up and leaned against the counter next to Tommy.

"...Really?"

Tommy Torini had gotten a lot of compliments in life, but a guy being inspired by _him_ to buy a new suit was actually a first.

When Bruce nodded, Tommy felt his face heat up.

"Well-- now that it fits you, you could beat me on the catwalk any day," he said, but it came out a little more breathless than humorous.

Bruce laughed again, not noticing Tommy's discomfiture. "Yeah right. Like I could even _get_ down a catwalk without falling on my face."

They were standing so close now that Tommy could smell the vodka on Bruce's breath, and for some reason it wasn't the deterrent that it probably should have been-- then again Tommy was also quite drunk.

"Never know what you can do until you try," he exhaled, leaning in a little closer and finding his eye trailing down to Bruce's lips.

If only he could summon the nerve to ask for what he wanted...

"Yeah! Like boxing," Bruce said suddenly, jarring Tommy out of his reverie.

"Wh... what?"

"You know, boxing. Fisticuffs," Bruce clarified, raising his hands and balling them and swinging them around a little for emphasis.

"I've never been good at that sort of thing but when Mr. Bishop was up in my face like that and I saw you in the corner watching, I felt so bold I almost wanted to deck the guy."

... _He has no clue I was wanting to kiss him, does he,_ Tommy thought with an internal sigh.

"Yeah... I bet you would have knocked him out," he said with a faint smile, trying not to sound upset for Bruce's sake.

But the singer noticed anyway. "Hey, why so glum, chum? What can your ol' pally Bruce do for you, since you made me dinner?"

"Nothing, man, we're good," Tommy insisted, and he smiled despite himself when Bruce slung an arm around his shoulders for the first time ever.

"You're the best boss in the whole wide world, Tommy Torini," Bruce said drunkenly.

"Yeah yeah," Tommy mock-protested, but he couldn't help leaning into Bruce all the same.

"You're a pretty cool cat yourself, Bruce Isaac."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading this rarepair, what did you think? :D 
> 
> I will add more to this but not sure what direction exactly I want to go yet.


	3. Chapter 3

After Mr. Bishop was added to the list of people banned from the Strip, Bruce began to breathe a lot easier. It had been okay living here before, but now that Bishop was definitely _never_ coming back? Bruce felt like he had a new lease on life again.

Unfortunately though, the loneliness was eating away at him more than ever now. Sure, he'd had a couple people flirt with him after a show here and there, but it had never led to anything but a kiss on his hand or cheek and a "you're such a wonderful guy, there should be more like you in the world". Never a "write me" or a "let's go out".

It didn't help that the Rat Pack _loved_ to talk about sex, and a lot of the sex they referenced happened to be with each other. Bruce was allosexual and wasn't even cishet, having been with men before, but something about his young coworkers giving each other moony-eyes and slapping each other on the ass in passing was just... too much for him sometimes.

He felt bitter and resentful at their easy, capricious loving and how they made it look so simple and uncomplex. Maybe this, too, was just part of getting older.

The only one giving him genuine affection was Tommy, but Bruce still refused to believe that his boss's charming demeanor was anything more than platonic. Like all the rest of his employees, they were close friends, nothing more or less... at least that's what Bruce had to constantly remind himself when he started fantasizing.

Some nights while he was singing that pre-war love poetry, Bruce thought of what it would be like to be held close and called "baby"... it would never happen though. Tommy's tastes undoubtedly were for younger and more attractive men, of which New Vegas had many.

Tonight was New Year's Eve, and despite wearing his freshly-ironed new suit and a few spritzes of his nice cologne Bruce still felt glum. At midnight tonight he'd have to watch everyone suck face while he'd be up on stage, alone as usual.

"Here's your corsage, Brucie." Ricky had come up to him and held out a small box.

"You mean boutonniere?" Bruce couldn't help correcting, and Ricky rolled his eyes.

"Yeah yeah smart guy, just put on yer flower pin all right? Sheesh."

Bruce chuckled as he opened the box and saw a red rose bud tip made carefully out of folded soft paper that had a sewing pin through the stem, attaching it to a smaller paper stem full of tiny carnation-like buds.

If one didn't look too closely, they almost looked like real flowers-- Bruce had never seen any roses, but he'd read all about how they used to smell as pungently as cologne in the old pre-war history books. Apparently there used to be so many flowers everywhere, thousands of different kinds across America; people would use real ones instead of paper for all sorts of decorative things... it was difficult to imagine.

Bruce pinned on his boutonniere and couldn't help sitting up a little taller despite himself-- it made him feel fancy. The last time he'd worn one of these was New Year's at the Shark Club three years ago.

Had it really been three _years_ since he'd gotten to actually celebrate this holiday? Being on the run from Mr. Bishop had taken so much of his life away. But he'd made it through to the other side, and Bruce smiled.

"What's that grin for, ah?"

Bruce opened his eyes and smiled wider seeing Tommy coming over to sit down next to him.

"Just remembering the last time I wore one of these," Bruce said, fiddling with his paper rose. "It was three years ago, at the Shark Club. Guess I'm just extra grateful to be here tonight."

"Aw, Brucie," Tommy said, his own smile blossoming across his face. "You sure know how to make a guy feel loved."

 _The feeling is mutual_ , Bruce wanted to say, but somehow that felt a little too intimate.

"You're the best boss a guy could ask for, and trust me I've had a lot of 'em," he said instead, but then he noticed that Tommy's smile fell just a little before hitching back up.

Had he said something wrong?

"Yeah... thanks man," Tommy said, sounding distracted as he stood up again and clapped Bruce on the shoulder politely.

Bruce was just about to ask if something was wrong when all of a sudden the power went out and the Aces lounge was shrouded in pitch darkness.

Tommy's hand was still on his shoulder; Bruce instinctively grabbed at his boss's arm as people cried out in surprise and alarm.

"All right everyone, stay calm," Tommy called out loudly over the din, but his grip on Bruce's shoulder was so tight it nearly hurt.

Bruce didn't care much at the moment though, clutching onto Tommy's arm and blinking in the sheer darkness. It wasn't that he was _afraid_ of the lack of a lighted glow, necessarily, but he certainly didn't _like_ it either. Especially not when they were inside... somehow this was worse than being outside at night.

"Stay calm everyone, please just take a few deep breaths and stay where you are, I promise we will get you back to the party if you all just listen up," Tommy shouted, then waited until mostly everyone had complied with him to continue.

"All right, groovy. We can get through this," he said, and a few people laughed weakly.

"Sure boss. Just like last summer, right?"

"Yeah, Ricky, just like last summer. Now who remembers where the flashlights are?"

Some rummaging by the bar, and then flashlights were turned on and distributed. People began to relax now that a little light was illuminating the place again, even though the shadows cast were spooky.

Tommy was still standing with his hand on Bruce's shoulder though, even after someone had given them a flashlight, and frankly Bruce appreciated that.

"Would you mind coming along to check the circuit breakers with me, Bruce? If the outage is just at the Tops I'd be able to reset it. Let's pray it's not the whole Strip that's down."

"Sure," Bruce said, standing up on legs wobbly from adrenaline and the two drinks he'd already had tonight. "Where is it?"

"The basement," Tommy said with a grimace. "That's kinda why I wanted some company. Do you mind?"

"Not at all boss," Bruce said, not wanting to back out now and seem like a wuss.

Even if he did not want to go to the basement at _all_.

They walked down the stairs to the shadowy casino floor, where Swank and the other Tops employees were doing damage control with the nervous tourists and drunken gamblers-- Bruce did _not_ envy that job.

But Tommy just kept on walking down the back hall, over to a door that had a faded sign reading SERVICE ONLY. Bruce held the flashlight while the Aces manager flipped through his key ring to find the right one to unlock the small door. It led into a cramped stairwell, and Bruce immediately understood why Tommy hadn't wanted to come here alone-- this place was _creepy_. Who had designed this?

After going down what felt like far too many stairs, they finally reached another door that opened into a tiny dark room containing dozens of circuit breaker panels.

"Jesus," Bruce breathed, awestruck despite his anxiety.

It had never really occurred to him just how _much_ electricity a place like the Tops used, until now.

"Yeah," Tommy sighed, beginning to flip the circuit breakers "off" one by one. "It's gonna be a few minutes down here, sorry."

"Can I help, or would that mess things up?" Bruce asked.

"Can't possibly mess it up worse than it already is, and I'd appreciate the help," Tommy said with a chuckle. "There's more than a hundred of these damn things."

"Wow," Bruce said as he began to flip some of them himself. "This is nuts man. How the hell does Mr. House do it, powering the whole Strip in this post-apocalypse? How'd he get access to the electricity from the Dam when the NCR wanted it for their outposts?"

"I don't think we wanna know," Tommy said morbidly. "That guy's got some major secrets."

"I'll say." They fell silent as they flipped the circuit breaker switches.

"Okay, that the last one? Right, now we gotta wait," Tommy sighed, rolling back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Hard reset takes about two minutes to fully shut off, so we have to wait before trying to turn it back on."

"Hmmm. How about a quick game of Truth or Dare, then?" Bruce asked, trying to think of something they could kill time with that would also distract from what a hideous place they were in.

"Seriously?" Tommy asked, but he was grinning in the flashlight's glare. "Yeah, all right. You go first," he said to Bruce.

"Truth or Dare?" Bruce asked, leaning carefully back against the wall and smiling when Tommy did the same right next to him.

"Truth," Tommy said.

"If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be?" Bruce asked, hoping Tommy would describe something in vivid detail to take their mind off where they were standing currently.

But Tommy just laughed a little and said "I dunno, man... I'm happy here. I know it seems crappy sometimes-- like right now-- but I just don't really have the capacity to imagine a life outside the Tops, not any more. I get to meet cool people like you... what else do I need really?"

"Aww, Tommy," Bruce said, nudging his boss with his shoulder as a sign of camaraderie he'd seen the other men do.

And when Tommy nudged him back, he felt something inside him flip pleasantly.

"Truth or Dare?" Tommy asked.

"Truth," Bruce answered, not wanting to move right now for a Dare.

"So are you... uh... only into women?"

"What-- makes you think that?" Bruce asked, startled at such a personal question-- was Tommy coming onto him, or had Bruce passed out and gone into another one of his fantasy dreams?

"Sorry I'm not like-- trying to pry," Tommy backpedaled, looking embarrassed.

"It's just, you always seem kinda tense when the Rat Pack gets a little raunchy and, I wanted to make sure you weren't-- feeling uncomfortable or anything," he finished while looking at a fixed point somewhere off past Bruce's shoulder.

Now Bruce felt guilty. Tommy was just looking out for him, trying to be a good boss, and Bruce was misinterpreting based on his own feelings.

"Oh, it's... not that," he sighed, shaking his head.

"And I'm not, by the way. Only into women. I had a boyfriend in New Reno for a while, but... that was a very long time ago. Truth or Dare?" he asked, not allowing Tommy to ask any follow-up questions on what he'd just said.

And blessedly, Tommy let it go. "Truth," he said again.

"Ever been in love?" Bruce asked quietly-- now he'd chosen a personal question, too.

Tommy sighed slowly before answering. "I don't... know," he began, and when Bruce gave him a look he held up his hands.

"Hey, I'm not trying to get out of answering I promise! I just... I really don't know," Tommy said, suddenly sounding so _lost_ that Bruce felt bad for asking.

"It's okay," he started, intending to say that Tommy didn't have to talk about it any more, but his boss kept going.

"I don't know what love is really supposed to feel like any more," Tommy said in a low voice.

"I thought I was in it a bunch of times when I was younger, and then I got my heart broken and realized none of those people actually loved me, I just wanted to think they did. So do I count that? Do I count people I've loved and lost and now come to hate, or do I wait until love comes along without pain to say I've experienced it?"

"...I guess I don't know either then," Bruce said, because Tommy had a point.

What good was feeling a temporary, fleeting love if it ended in pain? That whole "tis better to have loved than lost" phrase was utter crap. Bruce was _not_ any better off for having been with Roger back in New Reno until Roger decided he 'couldn't commit to an artist' and went back to the NCR. The sex hadn't even been that good, especially not towards the end.

"Don't know why I asked that when I can't even answer it myself," Bruce added with a dry chuckle.

"Truth or Dare," Tommy said softly, his voice subdued in a way Bruce had never heard it before.

"Truth, but-- do you think it's been two minutes by now?" he asked, feeling awkward now that Tommy seemed almost... upset at the way the conversation had gone.

"You can ask me a question while we do the switches," he offered, and Tommy nodded.

"Yeah, sure. Just don't touch that big on/off one in the middle there."

"Got it," Bruce said as he began to switch the smaller toggles back to the on position.

They worked in silence for a minute before Tommy asked, "Do you miss New Reno?"

"Not as much as I used to," Bruce admitted honestly. "This place has grown on me... mostly it's y'all who have grown on me," he said, glancing over at Tommy.

"After all the nasty places I've hid out from Mr. Bishop in, I don't much care about the roof over my head. I'm happy so long as I've got some people to shoot the shit with who aren't annoying as hell or absolutely nuts."

"The wasteland is wild man," Tommy said, smiling faintly and seeming to be in a better mood now, to Bruce's relief.

"It is. All right, that's the last one done," he said as he brushed his hands together to dust them off.

Tommy pressed the main toggle, putting it back to ON... and nothing happened.

"Let's just... give it a minute before we go back upstairs," the Aces manager said, trying not to sound nervous-- but Bruce could tell he was.

"Truth or Dare?" he asked, and Tommy laughed a little.

"Oh we don't have to keep doing that if you don't want to, Bruce."

"I do want to... unless _you_ don't," Bruce said, shrugging. "But it's my turn either way."

"Truth," Tommy said, leaning up against the wall.

Bruce wanted to go over and stand next to him, as easily as Tommy had just done with him earlier, but his feet wouldn't budge.

"What happened to your eye?"

"Accident when I was a teenager growing up around here," Tommy said, smirking. "I really thought I was invincible. My friends and I were fighting and I took a nail board to the face."

"Your _friends_ did that to you? How horrible!" Bruce was incredulous.

Tommy laughed. "Well they're not my friends any _more_ ," he said. "But yeah, we were just tearing shit up for the hell of it."

"Wow. You ran with a tougher crowd than I did," Bruce said while chuckling.

"Yeah, now you know why I look like a grizzled war veteran despite having never served," Tommy joked.

"Oh psh," Bruce scoffed. "You're the classiest man I know, Tommy Torini. 'Grizzled' could and will never describe your handsome ass."

"Oh Bruce, stop," Tommy said, but he was smiling in a way that made Bruce's heart skip a beat.

"Don't tell me to stop when it's just the truth," Bruce protested as he grinned back... and somehow he felt spurred to go on further still, letting affection come out that he'd been repressing.

"You're the Tops, Tommy-- _you_ are what makes this place Aces. Other people imitate it but you're the real thing, baby."

In the harsh glow of the flashlight Tommy's brown eye almost seemed to sparkle.

"Truth or Dare, baby," he breathed, his gaze catching Bruce's.

And suddenly, just like that, the energy down in the little room had changed. The way Tommy was looking at him right now made Bruce feel bold... like this crush he had on his boss might not be one-sided after all.

"Dare," Bruce said for the first time; he could have sworn he saw Tommy shiver.

"Bruce," he began, and the man in question went weak at the knees from hearing his name said in such a... _husky_ tone.

"Would you--"

Then an almost deafening rumbling began as the power grid came back to life and all the casino's machinery started back up. A tiny lightbulb came on over their heads, making both men blink in surprise.

"Huh. Guess it worked after all," Tommy said hoarsely, clearing his throat. "We can go upstairs now."

But Bruce's guts were still squirming wondering what Tommy had been about to ask.

"You didn't-- finish your question," he said awkwardly, and Tommy looked away.

"No, I didn't did I," he said while checking his watch.

"I just ah... wanted to dare you to do a handstand in here. Silly waste of time that's all."

"...Oh," was all Bruce could say, and he followed Tommy up the stairs feeling distinctly disappointed.

\--

Tommy's leg jiggled restlessly under the table as he watched Bruce singing on stage.

He and Bruce hadn't spoken of the conversation they'd had down in the circuit breaker room after getting back to Aces, but Tommy suspected Bruce hadn't believed his "handstand" lie and he felt guilty.

He'd wanted to ask Bruce to kiss him as the dare. But for some reason when the lights came on, Tommy got jittery and scared and had lied to his friend.

It probably had something to do with the fact that Tommy was falling for Bruce hard, and having to admit-- more to himself than Bruce-- that all his past loves had ended badly was messing with him now. He was already a moody drunk, and even moreso tonight as he sipped at another whiskey double.

Tommy wanted to be optimistic. To just confess his feelings, to try again at being happy with someone, hell... didn't he deserve it? He'd suffered enough in life already, often at the hands of his "lovers" and "friends". Tommy's past was full of skeletons long buried, and wounds that had never healed. His broken heart was weary, wanting to rest with someone who understood the magnitude of that weariness.

But what if Bruce said no? What if Tommy had misread all the things he'd taken as signs of the other man's affection? He didn't want to make things awkward between them or worse, make Bruce upset enough to quit and leave the Tops.

It was already almost midnight now, and the Aces was practically empty due to most casino guests retiring to their rooms to decompress from the stress of tonight's power outage. But the few remaining people including the Rat Pack employees cheered wildly as Bruce led the countdown from the stage, clapping and stomping their feet.

"Happy 2282!" they cried when the clock struck midnight, hugging and kissing each other.

Tommy looked at the stage and suddenly found that Bruce's eyes were already on him. He felt hot all over, swallowing hard.

He needed to get _out_ of here before he did something he'd surely regret later, like ask Bruce how hard he'd want his dick sucked.

\--

Bruce watched with a frown as Tommy set his drink down on a table and left the Aces-- where was his boss going?

After he was done with the New Year stuff and had sang a jazzy version of "Auld Lang Syne", Bruce staggered off the stage and sat at the bar for another drink. When he asked where Tommy had gone he got a shrug and a "haven't seen him in a bit".

Ten minutes later Bruce's drink was finished and he was feeling surly.

Had he really made Tommy _so_ uncomfortable with that silly game of Truth or Dare that now his boss was avoiding him? Or had he gone off to have fun with someone else on New Year's Eve, bored of Bruce and his other employees?

Another five minutes and Bruce decided to just give up and go back to his room. He said goodnight to everyone as he left, going to the elevators.

When he got out on his floor and immediately heard lewd sex noises from a nearby room, he didn't think anything of it at first-- this was New Vegas. It was practically its own radio station at this point.

But then as Bruce drew closer, his mouth fell open in shock as he realized it was _Tommy's_ room that the sounds were coming from... the door was slightly ajar, as if whoever was inside had been in too much of a hurry to shut it.

" _Fuck_ yeah baby," groaned Tommy from within, and Bruce sucked in a breath.

So he'd been right... Tommy hadn't been able to wait to leave Aces for some New Year's action.

Bruce should have been mad, should have been jealous, should have been upset, but... at the moment, all he could do was step closer as silently as possible until he was standing in the doorway.

He couldn't see into the main part of the room, because of the little hallway leading to the bathroom, but the _noises_ reaching him were intense enough.

Someone was, from the sounds of it, eagerly sucking Tommy Torini's dick. And Tommy was _loving it_.

"Shit, just like that," his boss panted, and a wave of arousal rocked Bruce to his core.

This was too fucking hot. Against his better judgement Bruce found himself slowly pushing the door open enough for him to step inside the hotel room.

The wet slurping sounds continued, with some muffled moans into Tommy's crotch as the person giving head was clearly having a fantastic time. And Bruce swallowed hard as he drew closer to the corner where he could peek around, knowing this was so wrong but unable to stop himself.

Finally he could see them-- it was Swank, unless he was much mistaken about what the front desk man looked like from the back.

Bruce was only mildly surprised to see such a tough-talking guy turn out to be into this kind of thing; he'd been in New Vegas for months now after all. Swank's pants were around his knees and he was down to a rumpled dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the wrists while he went to town on Tommy.

And though Bruce didn't have a good view at this angle he could tell Tommy was nude from the waist up, with his pants undone and shoes still on. As if they'd been in such a hurry to get to the main event that they didn't even fully undress.

Tommy's fingers were twisted in Swank's hair, and Bruce felt goosebumps erupting all over his body wishing that hand was touching _his_ head.

"Fuuuu _uuuuck_ ," Tommy moaned, arching up into Swank's mouth, his eyelid fluttering.

Bruce ducked back in case his boss opened his eye, but all he heard was a groan from Swank and more labored breathing.

He dared to look one more time, and Bruce was transfixed watching Tommy writhe on his chair. For once, the Aces manager looked so unrestrained... almost _wild_. Aggressively pushing into the back of Swank's neck and growling low in his throat.

"Yeah baby, take my dick," he husked, and Bruce had to step back again.

His own dick was _throbbing_ at this point, so hard it almost hurt, and though it was nearly impossible to walk away from those sounds, Bruce tiptoed out somehow.

He barely made it down the hall to his room before he took himself roughly in hand, letting his pants fall to the floor around his ankles as he sagged back against his closed door.

" _Fuck_ ," he groaned, wishing that he was the one making Tommy make those noises and not Swank.

Did Tommy suck dick too? Was he going to reciprocate and take Swank down his throat after this? Bruce wasn't sure if that made him upset or even more horny right now.

Panting with every push of his dick through his squeezing fingers, Bruce knew he wouldn't last long like this. It had been weeks since he'd masturbated and now he knew what Tommy _sounded_ like in pleasure...

The way that his back had arched, and those loud moans-- Tommy Torini was fucking _beautiful._

Bruce's eyes screwed shut as his head _thunked_ back against the door. His hips squirmed forward into his hand and he tugged at himself desperately.

Bruce wanted to be the one whose attentions Tommy was moaning obscenities from... fuck, he'd even suck his dick if that's what it took. He'd never done it before but for Tommy, Bruce would do anything.

If he let Tommy fuck his ass too, would his boss prefer Bruce over Swank?

"Tommy," he breathed, feeling his orgasm bubbling up through his insides as his thoughts grew wilder and wilder. "Oh _fuck_."

Then his legs stiffened and his hip popped as release exploded through him, making him gasp and tremble. Bruce grunted as hot spurts of cum got all over the carpet, and it was so _filthy_ what he was doing but he didn't _care_ right now because it felt so good...!

He stood there, chest heaving as he caught his breath, and within seconds the glow from cumming had already twisted on him.

Tommy would never fuck Bruce. Not when willing and talented men like Swank were always around.

And Bruce staggered into the bathroom, turning on the shower and getting in quickly so that his tears wouldn't be noticed on his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is officially the raunchiest chapter of anything I've posted to be publicly accessible! 
> 
> [Edit 1/24/2021] There is now a fourth chapter, sorry for the confusion with the previous note.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the resolution of this story ended up being far less smutty than I'd originally intended so, please accept these soft vibes that I cannot seem to alter lmao but please also review the updated tags

January was windy and cold on the Strip.

Bruce had attempted to act normal around Tommy and act like he hadn't witnessed what he had, but it wasn't working.

Every time Tommy smiled at him and called him "baby", Bruce felt his face heat up as he'd remember how his boss looked writhing in pleasure. And he didn't just want Tommy sexually, but... it sure was difficult _not_ to also want that after hearing how Tommy sounded getting his dick sucked.

Tonight he'd nearly gotten hard just from Tommy lightly touching Bruce's back in passing, and he'd decided enough was enough. He clearly needed to go get laid so he could stop embarrassing himself in front of his genuinely nice and caring boss, before things got out of hand. He'd been saving up for the occasion already.

Walking into Gomorrah, Bruce stopped in the cashier's office then immediately beelined for the courtyard. Out there they had the men who were less advertised than the women, but definitely available.

A tall, surprisingly muscular young man wearing next to nothing was gyrating near a heat lamp to the beat of the music; several older men were gathered around quietly leering at him and not-so-subtly palming their hands over their crotches. In a way, Bruce thought, it seemed almost worse than catcalls-- but then again he'd never done sex work so he couldn't really judge.

But he wouldn't just stare in silence with the rest: he wasted no time at all approaching the young man and asking, "How old are you?"

"...What? I don't do little boy play if that's what you're asking," the young man said warily while sizing Bruce up.

"Are you over thirty?" Bruce clarified, and the young man looked relieved.

"Ahh... yes. I am. How _much_ over thirty, you don't really need to know honey."

Bruce chuckled. "That's just fine with me. How much for three hours of your time tonight?"

"Three _hours_? That's a steep lump sum honey, you sure?" the young man said while doing a body roll.

"How much?" Bruce insisted, and the young man smiled.

"You're stubborn... I like that. Two thousand caps babe and I'm all yours for three full hours in my private room."

"You've got a deal," Bruce said, handing over the bag of caps. "Just got this from your cashiers, so if it's not good you'll have to take it up with them."

The young man laughed as he stopped dancing to briefly inspect the caps. "And _funny_ too! All right honey, let's go upstairs."

And he sauntered away in his kitten heels; Bruce quickly followed seeing the glares they were both getting from the men who had been leering. At the same time though he couldn't deny it was kind of a turn-on, thinking that those men were probably jealous of Bruce's ability to actually pay for this pretty young man's private time.

"You've got a gorgeous ass," Bruce couldn't help saying while behind the young man on the stairs-- he was wearing fishnets, and that ass was just _glorious_ in them.

"Why thank you honey, I do work hard for it," the young man giggled.

Bruce had always thought the decor of Gomorrah was somehow both tacky and gothic in a garish sort of way, but tonight he was horny enough that he almost enjoyed the moody dimness of the private room.

"So what d'you want to do first, baby?" the young man husked after closing the door, stepping close to Bruce and putting a hand on his chest.

"I can suck you if you like..."

"Yeah," Bruce grunted, and he let the young man guide him over to the bed.

"Let's get these off first, hm?" Gentle hands were at his belt, undoing it with a deftness Bruce was quickly impressed by.

Then his pants were down around his ankles and he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Now relax, baby," the young man purred before taking Bruce's dick into his mouth.

At first Bruce shifted into it and when he gasped, the young man made a pleased sound that vibrated around his dick. It felt good.

It should have felt amazing though, with how pent-up and sexually thirsty Bruce really was... and with increasing humiliation he found himself unable to get fully erect, even though the young man's skills weren't lacking in the slightest.

After several long minutes with his dick refusing to be anything but half-hard, the young man finally pulled off and looked up at Bruce with a confused expression.

"Is something wrong, baby? You too drunk or what?"

"Maybe," Bruce lied, taking off his suit jacket and tossing it aside before flopping back on the bed still in his collared dress shirt.

He didn't have the heart to admit to the young man that he was already sober again; he'd been so wound tight around Tommy tonight that he'd only had one drink-- and that was hours ago.

"Well maybe we can just slow down a little, hey? I don't want you to leave a dissatisfied customer," the young man said, reaching for the buttons on Bruce's shirt.

One button popped open, then two, and Bruce's eyes fluttered closed as the pretty young man touched him.

"That's it baby, just relax," the young man cooed reassuringly, tracing his fingers over Bruce's nipples in a way that made him arch his back.

But the young man calling him _baby_ was only making him think of Tommy again...

Bruce felt lips on his neck and sighed in satisfaction, trying to enjoy the sensations and not think about his boss.

"You like that?" the young man murmured into his ear, and Bruce groaned low in his throat.

"Yeah." At least, he _wanted_ to like it... but this wasn't doing it for him as much as he'd hoped.

And when the young man's hand traced slowly down his stomach, Bruce inhaled sharply. It tickled more than felt good...

When the teasing touch got closer to his dick Bruce took the young man's hand and stopped him.

"What's wrong, baby?" the young man asked, noticing immediately that Bruce still wasn't into this.

"Can we just... lie together for a while first?" Bruce asked sheepishly, and the young man seemed surprised but shrugged.

"Sure, sugar, whatever you like. Want to cuddle?"

Bruce nodded, and as they were laying together-- the young man still in his fishnets and Bruce still in his dress shirt-- he felt strange for not knowing who was pressed up against him, even though he had done it before here. Maybe the loneliness was getting the best of him at last.

"What's your name?" Bruce asked, breaking the quiet.

"...What?" The young man was so startled that he pulled back.

"Look, I'm not... trying to be creepy. Sorry if I am," Bruce said as he sat up. "If you'd rather I left, I can. You can keep the money-- I won't complain about not being satisfied."

"Now wait a second, I-I'm just trying to keep up here," the young man stammered, looking still bewildered but also sympathetic.

"You're not being creepy. Do you just... want someone to talk to? Is that it?"

"I-- guess that's what this is now," Bruce said, sighing slowly. "I had every intention of fucking you when we came up here, but..."

He couldn't finish, because that would mean admitting to himself that he didn't want anyone but Tommy.

"Oh, honey. You want to talk about it?" the young man offered, and he sounded so sincere that Bruce couldn't help nodding.

"Well, the good news is that you've got two and a half hours left."

Bruce chuckled at that, and the young man smiled.

"I'm Anthony," he said, holding out his hand to shake.

\--

Tommy hadn't seen Bruce at all tonight.

Technically the singer didn't _have_ to be here; it was his night off. But usually Bruce was here anyway just to hang out with everyone... he'd been here at the beginning of things like usual, and Tommy had thought they were having a good time joking and laughing behind the bar while he set up for service.

But then he'd turned around and the other man had just... disappeared. No one seemed to know where he'd gone, either, and no one answered when Tommy checked his room. Hours passed by and still Bruce was nowhere to be seen around Aces or the Tops casino floor.

After the Rat Pack Revue was done for the night Tommy went down to the front desk. Swank smiled at him, the emotion in it a little _too_ friendly after last week's hook-up. Tommy didn't know how to tell the man that he'd been essentially used as a distraction from Bruce, but right now he needed a favor so he leaned into the flirting.

"Hey baby," he cooed, trailing his fingertips over Swank's suited forearm as he drew close.

"Hey Tommy." Swank caught Tommy's hand with his, drawing it slowly to his lips, and Tommy giggled.

"I need to check up on one of my employees who was a no-show, I'm worried he might be drunk in his room. Can I get that skeleton key of yours real quick? I'll bring it right back."

"Of course, anything for you baby." Swank fished around in his picket with his free hand and produced a small key.

"You're a real doll, Swank."

Tommy went upstairs to his and Bruce's floor, and when he let himself in to Bruce's room after knocking again he frowned to see the room was empty.

So where _was_ Bruce, then?

He should have just left and gone back down to return the key to Swank, but for some reason Tommy found himself lingering, flipping through Bruce's holotapes and looking at his Caravan deck.

It wasn't just worry that kept him here. Yes, he was worried about Bruce and wanted to make sure he was all right, but... it was deeper than that. Had been for quite a while now, although Tommy would be hard-pressed to identify the exact moment his feelings for the other man had reached this level.

He was upset. Tommy Torini was _upset_ because he felt like either he'd done something wrong without realizing it and had driven the other man away, or, that Bruce was seeking attention in the arms of another tonight.

Yes, he'd done the same thing with Swank, but... that didn't _mean_ anything. What if Bruce was in love with someone else? Why was that thought enough to crush the air out of Tommy's lungs?

"Tommy...? What-- what are you doing in here?"

The Aces manager was startled so badly out of his thoughts by Bruce's voice that he bumped the table he'd been next to, spilling Caravan cards everywhere.

"Sorry, fuck, sorry, I just-- came in here to look for you since you disappeared tonight," he said sheepishly as he dropped into a crouch to collect the cards.

"...It's my night off," Bruce said slowly, sounding uncomfortable. "Do you make a habit of tracking your employees like this, or am I the first?"

Fuck, why had he stayed in here?! Tommy's face burned with red-hot embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Bruce, I was just-- worried about you and wanted to make sure you were okay," he said in a rush, standing up and putting the half stack of cards he'd collected back on the table.

"But I get that this is kinda fucked up so-- I'll get out of your hair. You have a good night."

"Wait-- you were worried about me?" Bruce asked, stepping towards Tommy.

"Just forget it, it's st***d," Tommy muttered as he walked to the door. "I-I'll just go now, goodnight Bruce."

"Tommy--" Bruce reached out and seized Tommy's hand while he passed, and Tommy went still in shock.

"Please don't go," Bruce said, and his tone now was very different than it had been a minute ago.

Tommy dared to look up at his friend, and swallowed hard at the expression he saw on Bruce's face.

"...I have something I need to say to you," Bruce began, then took a breath to steel himself as he let go of Tommy's hand.

"I... saw you, Tommy. On New Year's Eve, with Swank. Your door was open and... I saw you both."

"Oh," was all Tommy could say, suddenly feeling a little faint-- was Bruce upset about this?

"And... I know that this might very well be extremely inappropriate of me to say given that I know you and Swank are..." Bruce trailed off awkwardly.

"Wait, you think that he and I--?" Tommy couldn't help a bark of nervous laughter, the whole situation spiraling out of control like some sort of emotional rollercoaster.

"N-no, oh god no, it was just to-- let off some steam on New Year's that's all. We're not together."

"...You're not?" Bruce asked, and he sounded almost... hopeful?

"No, I mean-- he might _think_ we are now, but believe me, that was a one-time thing baby."

"Well that's-- that's good," Bruce said, sounding relieved before blurting out "Because I love you, Tommy."

If Tommy had been riding an emotional rollercoaster before, now his cart had flown right off the rails. Of all the things he'd been expecting Bruce to say... that had _not_ even been on the list. Had Tommy fallen and hit his head on something?

Then all at once, the conversation they'd had on New Year's Eve came back to him. How they'd both spoken of never really having been in love before... and now Bruce had said the words, plain and true. And despite anxiety making his heart pound too hard in his chest Tommy really, _really_ wanted to believe in them this time.

But he was speechless, unable to form a coherent sentence even in his mind, and unfortunately Bruce wasn't taking his delayed reaction very well.

"Sorry, I don't know what's come over me, I-I should go--"

Tommy's gut wrenched as the other man took a step back... he couldn't let Bruce get away again. Not this time. He'd messed up once already and wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

And even though his nerves were frayed to the point of near panic, the Aces manager was more scared of losing Bruce from his life than risking heartbreak again.

To Tommy, Bruce was more than worth that risk.

The older man made a soft noise of surprise when Tommy stepped close and caught him gently by the chin, framing Bruce's face with both hands as he traced his thumbs over the singer's cheeks.

"Bruce," he said in a low voice, relishing the way the other man shivered from his name being said like that.

"On New Year's Eve, I wanted to kiss you so bad," Tommy admitted, finding his words at last; his pulse quickened when he saw Bruce's mouth drop open in shock.

"Please, can I kiss you now?"

"Y-yes," Bruce stammered, and his next noises were swallowed into Tommy's mouth as their lips met.

The Aces manager realized with a thrill that he was sober _and_ that Bruce didn't taste or smell like alcohol at all, which meant he was probably sober too. They were really doing this...

And now that Bruce was kissing him back, Tommy found himself not wanting to rush things. The last thing he wanted to do was push Bruce too far or too fast and make him skittish... so even though he wanted to press his tongue into Bruce's mouth Tommy held back. He kissed Bruce only with his lips, breaking the kiss for a moment only to lean back in and let it linger.

"Mmn..."

Bruce's arms came around Tommy's shoulders, holding him close; when the kiss broke again Tommy leaned his forehead against Bruce's.

 _I love you too,_ he wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat. Why was it so hard, even when he desperately wished to say them?

"Bruce," he sighed instead, letting his fondness for the other man come into his tone.

"Hmmm," Bruce hummed in reply, his eyes closed as he leaned into Tommy.

"Don't know why I didn't just kiss you on New Year's, I'm such an i***t," Tommy murmured. "I didn't want Swank, I wanted you."

Bruce shuddered at that. "Goddamn but that's nice to hear, Tommy."

\--

The two thousand caps was a bargain for the advice Bruce had received from Anthony... it had paid off better than his wildest dreams.

After listening to Bruce ramble on about Tommy for about an hour and how he was certain that his boss didn't like him _that way_ , Anthony had reached out and touched Bruce's wrist.

"Honey... who _cares_ if he already likes you or not? All you have to do is tell _him_ you like him, and then he'll know you're interested and you'll have your chance. And if not, then at least you'll know for sure and won't torture yourself over him any more."

It had sounded so simple coming from Anthony that Bruce couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it himself. He'd just been so _sure_ that Tommy wasn't interested, but Anthony's words had made him bold and hopeful.

"Just because he was with someone else on New Year's doesn't mean he's in love with them. You'll never know how he feels until you tell him how _you_ feel."

"...You're right. Thank you, Anthony."

The young man had given him a friendly hug as they said goodbye, and had told Bruce to stop by anytime he wanted to chat-- free of charge.

"We're friends now, so don't think you can get away with never visiting me either!"

Bruce had grinned and promised he'd come by again soon.

Now he grinned again thinking about how truly incredible his night had been, and Tommy smirked at him.

"What's that smile for, hm?"

They were laying naked under the sheet on Tommy's bed, just cuddling so far. Tommy had said he didn't want to rush things, and Bruce had agreed-- at his age, even just this was enough to send him over the moon.

Getting to share a bed with someone again was a really big deal.

"Just happy," he said truthfully enough, pressing a kiss to Tommy's jaw.

"I owe Anthony over at Gomorrah big time for convincing me to finally tell you how I felt," he said, and Tommy laughed.

"So _that's_ where you were tonight."

"Yes, and I'll need to stop by again soon and tell him the good news... unless you wanted to come with me," Bruce said, kissing the edge of Tommy's mustache.

"You'd bring me with you? I'm tickled, baby." Tommy smiled and turned his head to catch Bruce's lips in a proper kiss.

Bruce had wanted to say something in response to that, but as the kiss lingered he decided whatever it was just wasn't important.

When they laid down to sleep at last, still pressed close to one another, Bruce felt like he was already dreaming. He didn't even mind that Tommy hadn't said "I love you" back... he'd surprised himself with that declaration, certain he'd gone too far and messed everything up. It was true, though... perhaps that was the most shocking part about it.

He'd fallen for Tommy practically the day they had met, and Bruce was ready to give love a shot again. Life was too short to do things slowly.

But he had remembered the pain in Tommy's voice when the other man had spoken of his past "loves", and Bruce didn't want to contribute to that pain. If Tommy wanted to wait to say those words, that was fine with him.

For now, just being in Tommy Torini's bed and being held so tenderly by him was enough. Bruce fell into a deep slumber, his body relaxing fully for the first time in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any eventual Explicit-rated add-ons to this story will be only viewable to Ao3 users. No guarantees on when I'll get around to that either. 
> 
> I just felt bad ending this on a sad note in the last chapter so here you go ha. please let me know what you thought of this if you made it all the way to the end! 
> 
> Also I'll be taking any and all rarepair suggestions for International Fanworks Day, I have a couple ideas already but open to requests :)


End file.
